


Constructive Criticism

by snowflakeimagines



Series: Meet Ugly Specials [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dancetale (Undertale), Angst, Dancetale Sans (Undertale), Gen, meet ugly, reader's kind of an asshole in this one, so if you dont wanna see sad snas this aint for you :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28109034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowflakeimagines/pseuds/snowflakeimagines
Summary: A shy skeleton makes a comment on your art. You take it in the worst way possible.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale) & Reader
Series: Meet Ugly Specials [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057940
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Constructive Criticism

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: 42 with Dancetale sans. It is my understanding that the reader is the artist. Right? Otherwise Dancetale sans being a visual artist makes no sense. I'm getting back on track on track now lol. For the traits, I like to explain components of art; colors, shape, value; only if someone is willing to listen. A big pet peeve is when someone says it's a gift given and not a skill that I have cultivated.
> 
> (42. I’m talking about how “anyone could make this” at an art gallery and I didn’t realize you’re the artist)

Through a ton of hard work, you’d managed to get your art displayed at the local gallery. Today was the day of your first show. You’d spent the day hovering around the wall your art had been mounted on, listening in on the reviews people gave your work. Standing around with nothing to do but eavesdrop was starting to get boring, though, so when a skeleton in a blue hoodie lingered in front of your painting, you walked over and struck up a conversation.

“What do you think it means?” you asked the skeleton.

The skeleton jumped slightly. He looked at the space next to him before looking at you. “pardon?” he said softly.

You motioned at your largest oil painting. It was an abstract painting of some yellow flowers. “The painting. What do you think it means?”

“oh, um… happiness, maybe? i dunno… i’m not good with this art analysis stuff.”

“Well… What do you think of the painting in general, then?”

“i think it’s nice,” the skeleton said with slightly more confidence. 

“Is that so?” You weren’t sure how to take that, especially when you couldn’t see his face very clearly. “Nice” was usually just a generic compliment people used when they didn’t know what to say, or worse, when they wanted to say a backhanded “you could do better”.

The skeleton nodded. “yeah. like, uh… the shades of yellow blending together and… bleeding? i dunno if that’s the word for it, but it’s one of those things that anyone could do, y’know? it’s just… nice, i guess.”

You couldn’t help but bristle at that. “Just so you know,” you said through gritted teeth, “I’m the one who painted this.”

“really?” The skeleton sounded even more nervous now. He gave you a small smile; or had he been smiling this entire time? “you’re very talented.”

“Oh, so _now_ you’re saying that I’m talented,” you snapped. “Now that you’ve found out that I’m the artist behind the painting you’ve been insulting, I’m suddenly talented.”

The skeleton, for some reason, seemed shocked at what you said. “i-insulting? i’m sorry… i swear i didn’t mean to insult you.”

“You didn’t mean to?” You pointed at your painting. “I used color theory to show a definite juxtaposition to the meanings behind these flowers. The bright yellow and white are associated with positive, happy feelings, because it’s the sun, if you didn’t know, while the subject at hand is a symbol of sorrow. It’s messy in a very deliberate way. It’s different.” Maybe you were overreacting a bit, but you didn’t care. You worked hard to get yourself to where you were now. You weren’t about to let someone dismiss your efforts. “You brushed all that aside and said that this was something anyone could do!”

The skeleton looked at your painting, either gathering his thoughts or his courage (both, probably), before speaking again. “i’m sorry. i should’ve phrased it better. it’s… it’s something anyone could do, but you do it especially well. executing something simple in such a beautiful way is… amazing.” He glanced up at you. “i can tell that you put your soul into this. you really have a gift.”

That struck another nerve. You glowered and stepped closer to him. “My skills aren’t just a _gift._ I worked for them. I cultivated them. No one handed them to me on a silver platter.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he said meekly. “i’m sorry…”

“Stop saying you’re sorry when you’re not. I can see you smiling.” Your words were harsh, but your voice sounded more uncertain than you would’ve liked. 

“i’m always smiling,” the skeleton whispered, retreating into his hoodie. “i can’t stop even if i wanted to.” He looked genuinely miserable. Crap. _You_ were the cause of that. “i’m sorry. i-i’m no expert, but for all that it’s worth, i really do like your painting.” He tugged his hood closer to his face and left for the next room. 

Guilt settled heavily in your chest. For what must’ve been a full minute, you stared at your own painting, unable to forget the look on the skeleton’s face. When it became too much for you to take, you finally chased after him. You needed to apologize, to make it up to him for being so horrible; but by the time you got there, he’d already vanished. 

**Author's Note:**

> twist can give you gentle and constructive criticism of your art if you really wanted him to, but he would never just flat out insult it :/
> 
> (Find me and my other works on [Tumblr!](https://snowflakeimagines.tumblr.com))


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